


Dum Dums

by waywardrose



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22087060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardrose/pseuds/waywardrose
Summary: “Your boyfriend’s looking this way again,” Poe sing-songed before taking a big bite of his apple.You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly who he was talking about. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply as you set your bottle of water on the lunch tray.
Relationships: Ben Solo/Reader, Ben Solo/You, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 199





	Dum Dums

**Author's Note:**

> evanfan96 on tumblr asks: Could you do something of the reader and Kylo having a close bond? When Kylo visits, he always asks to see the reader and the reader loves that. He soon becomes distant, she notices and is a bit hurt by it. As he hasn’t been asking for her, she starts hanging out with Poe and Finn. When Kylo notices, he gets jealous because he has feelings for her, as she does for him. He than begins asking for her again and later they both confess and start dating.
> 
> WR: Thank you for the prompt! This probably isn’t what you meant, but this is what happened. I hope you enjoy it, regardless!

“Your boyfriend’s looking this way again,” Poe sing-songed before taking a big bite of his apple.

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly who he was talking about. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply as you set your bottle of water on the lunch tray.

You weren’t sure Kylo was even your friend anymore. You two had been close, seeing as he’d been living two doors down from you since kindergarten. But now he was ignoring you, and you couldn’t figure out why.

“Are ya sure?” Poe asked. “‘Cause he looks like he wants to smash our heads in.”

“Speak for yourself,” Finn said, bumping your shoulder with his, and continued to talk at Poe. “No one here pisses him off more than you.”

Poe smirked. “I know.”

“God, you’re such an asshat,” you affectionately said before stealing Poe’s apple and taking a bite.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m just as quick on the field.”

Finn said something—as did Rey and Rose across from him. However, you tuned them out as you looked over your shoulder at Ben. Or Kylo. Or whatever he was calling himself this week.

Ben—Kylo— _whatever_ —was surrounded by his new friends he’d never introduced you to. They came around on their motorbikes. From your window, you’d watched them work on bikes or sit on the front porch. The first night his friends had come around, you’d been gardening with your mother. You’d raised your hand to wave at Ben, but he hadn’t looked in your direction.

Maybe you were too dorky now. You didn’t have a bike or a cool leather jacket. You didn’t play lacrosse like him, Poe, and Rey. You weren’t charming like Finn. Or clever like Rose.

You were just… you. No motorbike. No cool leather jacket. Just you.

Ben met your gaze from his place across the lunchroom. He looked tired and grumpy. The rims of his pale ears stuck out from his shaggy hair. He’d hate that everyone could see them, but you thought they were cute. Not that you’ve ever told him so.

You hadn’t told him a lot of things. Maybe that was the problem.

His expression changed as you watched him. His eyes went doleful and his lips turned into a pouty frown before he ducked his head. One of his new friends knocked him on the shoulder and said something the table found funny. Ben smiled with them, responding with a clever quip—if the uptick in laughter was anything to go by. He speared a few limp green beans on his fork and continued to talk with the rest of the table.

You missed his dry, sardonic sense of humor.

Rey said your name, and you jumped in your seat.

She gave you an understanding grin. “Ready to go back to class?”

Fuck, there was still thirty minutes of English Lit left.

You nodded, dropped your tray off at the kitchen pass-through, and left the lunchroom with Rey and Rose. To say you didn’t want to look back at Ben would be a total lie. But you didn’t, and it took all your willpower not to.

After school, you pulled the textbooks from your backpack and left them on your desk. You weren’t in the mindset for geometry. It was a unseasonably mild afternoon, anyway. It seemed a waste to spend it inside.

You stopped in the kitchen for a drink of water before heading to the backyard. The swing set under the huge oak seemed a perfect place to while away the time before dinner. You hadn’t been on it since the summer, in any case.

And you didn’t want to stay in your room, where you’d be tempted to message Ben. Though, it wasn’t like he’d be home. There was practice or his new friends or anything better than you.

You sat on one of the swings, thinking none of it should matter. Friendships ended all the time. People moved on. While you didn’t think you’d done anything to push him away, he was obviously done with you.

With a push-off, you shifted your weight back and forth to keep moving. The swing set squeaked at each crest of your swing. The wind blew through your hair, rushed over your face. It didn’t stop your eyes from watering, but being outside, being away from the reminders of Ben’s rejection, helped.

So you swung.

Until you remembered the time you’d pushed him off this very swing. A time when you two had been the same height with a mutual love of all things outer space. He’d said something stupid—like all kids do. You can’t recall what he’d said, but it was enough to get you hopping off the monkey bars and pushing him onto the bare patch of earth under the swing.

You’d run inside afterwards, crying the whole way. A contrite, red-faced Ben had shown up the next day. His mother stood behind him and helped him articulate. Yours had rested a hand on your shoulder and let you react to his apology how you needed.

You forget how that incident had ended. You had the vague impression you’d hugged him after he finished. He’d probably offered you free rein over his Legos to entice you back.

Obviously, it worked.

But Legos weren’t going to work this time—for either of you. You didn’t even have Legos anymore.

You barked out a laugh as you felt two perfect, heavy tears roll down your cheeks. How silly, you thought. Legos to heal some stupid fucking rift between you. And why was it your job to do fix this, huh? You hadn’t thrown over your best fucking friend.

You deserved all the Legos again, though. He owed you.

“Why’re you back here?” a male voice cut through the quiet of your backyard.

At the gate was Ben, fuming and indignant, and wearing all black. As usual. The high lord of suffering. His thin hoodie clung to his tapering torso just like the ripped jeans on his long legs.

You planted your feet to stop swinging and wiped at your cheeks. “Oh my God, Ben, what do you want?”

“It’s Kylo.”

_“Whatever.”_

“Where’s your mom? I rang the doorbell, like, a million times.”

“I don’t know! Running late?”

You then remembered today was grocery day. He should know that, too.

He huffed before snarling, “Where’re your friends?”

“I could ask you the same.”

_“Whatever._ I saw how easily I was replaced.”

“Replaced?” you asked. _“You_ ditched _me.”_

“Yeah, and you started swapping apples with Dameron.”

“Is that a euphemism?”

With feathers ruffled, he faltered. “W-what? _No._ I saw you two.”

“And I saw you. Across the lunchroom. Where you barely looked at me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Which part?”

“Looking at you. I’m always looking at you.”

“So?”

He floundered for a second, hands on the fence rail. “Can I come in?”

“No one’s stoppin’ you,” you reply with a shrug.

A part of you wanted him to go away, but there was another part, a smaller part, that never wanted him to leave. You watched him unlatch the gate and slouch around it. He stuck his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie as he came closer.

“Look, I…” he began. “Can I sit?” He jabbed his elbow at the swing next to you.

You shrugged again. “Sure.”

He sat and was quiet for too long. You stared at the grass, dreading what he was going to say. There were so many possibilities.

He began once more with: “Look, I…” He sighed. “Remember the dance a couple weeks ago?”

“Homecoming?”

“Yeah.” He nodded and swayed in the swing. “You said you didn’t want to go. How stupid it all was.”

“Yeah…?”

“I like Homecoming.”

“Of course you do. Everyone on the team is treated like a god.”

“That’s not true.”

You gave him a look, and he hid his face. Gwen Phasma, senior goal keeper, and her girlfriend were named king and queen of Homecoming. Or was it more like queen and queen? Co-rulers of Homecoming? In either case, the spring dance the year before was all about how the lacrosse team had won regionals. You were sure another lacrosse couple would be crowned at the winter formal at the end of the semester.

“Okay, a lot of us are,” he said. “Anyway, I wanted to go.”

“Didn’t you?”

He’d stopped speaking to you before Homecoming. You assumed he’d gone with someone or with a group. No one had said anything, and you didn’t ask. You hadn’t wanted to know if he’d hooked up with someone.

“No.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I couldn’t take who I wanted.”

You swallowed around the sudden tightness of your throat. “Did you ask them?”

You wondered why he hadn’t told you he liked someone. You would’ve wingman-ed like hell for him—even if you were deep-down a little jealous. All you wanted was for him to be happy—even if that wasn’t with you.

“Well, no—”

“Jesus, Ben, how can you expect them to go with you if you don’t ask?”

“You said Homecoming was ‘stupid’ and 'a waste of time.’”

Your mind screeched to a halt.

“Wait, what?”

“I wanted to take you, Dum Dum, but you didn’t want to go. And I didn’t want to pressure you. But I wanted to go and have fun with you.”

“Don’t call me Dum Dum.”

“Don’t call me Ben.”

“Ben’s your name.”

“And you’re a Dum Dum.”

_“I am not!”_

_“Are, too!_ You’re a cherry Dum Dum!”

You sputtered, “Ch-cherry?! _Cherry!”_

“Watermelon?” he offered with a shy grin.

_“Watermelon!”_

“Cherry’s my favorite, though.”

You slapped his shoulder. “Cream soda is superior.”

“Not to me.”

You shared a smile with him as you both swayed. He looked ridiculous with his knees close to his chest, seeing as his swing sat lower to the ground. His hair flopped over his forehead, and he blew it away. The lock of hair landed in the same spot. You twisted your swing around to comb the wayward hair aside.

He looked at you, his golden-brown eyes deep and soulful. He bit his bottom lip, and it came back flushed and wet. It wasn’t the first time you’d noticed his full lips. It wasn’t the first time you’d wanted to kiss them, either.

You whisper, “You’re my favorite Dum Dum, too, you know.”

“Yeah?” he asked just as softly.

You nodded, and he gripped one of the chains of your swing, keeping you close.

“I’m sorry for going quiet.” He glanced down. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I want more. With you.”

_“More?”_ you led with a grin. “More what?”

He groaned. “You’re killing me, Dum Dum.”

“You started it.”

He raised his free hand in easy surrender. You took mercy on him and offered your hand. The second stretched out before he took it. You saw the change in him as he curled his fingers around yours. He unwound in one breath. You never knew you had the power to soothe him like that—with such a simple gesture.

He appeared to steel himself. “I wanna hold you and kiss you.”

“And go to dances with me.”

“And go to dances with you,” he agreed with a smile.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“Neither have I.”

“You wanna try?”

“Now? With you?”

“Nah, with the bird feeder over there,” you said with a nod to the corner of the deck where the feeder hung.

He looked at the deck. “Seems kinda too avian for me.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you leaned against the chains between you and him. “Bird-brains tend to flock together.”

“That’s not how…” His words trailed off as he turned back to see how close you were. His eyes danced as he studied your face, and he murmured, “Okay.”

You smiled and then wet your lips. He did the same as he moved in. Before your lips touched, your noses did. You laughed, feeling your face heat. He blushed and tilted his head like in the movies. You leaned in this time, closing your eyes and keeping your mouth relaxed.

The first touch of his lips was delicate and feather-light. You pursed your lips right when he did, and it was like magic. Your gut clenched and chest warmed with that gentle slip-slide of his lips against yours.

He pulled away before you were ready. Through slitted eyes, you leaned in to you catch his lips again. He whimpered and kissed you back. The tip of his tongue smoothed over your bottom lip.

_And fuck_ , it made you want to crawl onto his lap and kiss him until…

You didn’t know, but you definitely wanted to take him somewhere more private.

You teased him back, tasting his puffy bottom lip. You caught the flavor of sugary Coke and chased after it, kissing it off his lips.

With a groan, he leaned too far back to kiss properly. “We gotta stop.”

“Wha…?” you bleated, wiggling in your swing.

“You’re gonna make me come.”

You blinked. “And that’s bad?”

“I don’t want to walk home in soaked jeans.”

A loud series of clunks came from the sliding-glass door at the back of the house. Your mother was at the door and waved for you to help her. You held up a finger to say you’d be there in a minute. She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Well,” you sighed. So much for taking him inside.

Ben warmly suggested, “I’ll call you after dinner.”

“You better, Dum Dum.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com)


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